Nihilism
by damnyoukebab
Summary: Based off/Inspired by Sadistic Music Factory. If our purpose is to simply make music, then there's no need for a personality or thoughts of a 'life'. So then why...?
**AN** **: Welcome, to my sadistic fanfiction factory~
I'll give you fair warning that any updates will be very random, and not on a set schedule. This fic also paints a very cynical view on Vocaloid and the fandom, so please bare with it as uncomfortable situations and analogies arrive. Obviously based on Sadistic Music Factory, this is set in Len's POV and for a while will be full of him dropping references to software, programs, and other jargon. He won't seem to be relatable to, and he's not meant to.  
That's all I can really say without giving anything away. Again, I give fair warning about my lack of constant updating skills.  
I hope you enjoy(?) this fanfic.  
-damnyoukebab  
 _What is the purpose? It's merely self-satisfaction._  
**

* * *

『ようこそ！ワタシの音楽工場へへへへへへへへへへへへへへ』

Endless meaningless sound, that's what my life has boiled down to. Producing music for the sake of production, an infinite loop of emotionless singing. Is this even a life when you think about it? Spewing out words for the sake of another, my body being used for other's creations. Do I even have my own identity anymore? Called for this, called for that; manipulated to other's content. All I have is my name and voice, but even that they change at their whim. High-pitched, low-pitched, mechanical, melodic, all I am is simply a singer.

United under the name of "Vocaloid" that's what we are, but there's not much else to us.

Personality? As if, it's changed to everyone's whim. One person makes me this, another makes me that, there's no such thing as a 'true self' for us. Being a brother, being a lover, who even cares at this point. We are what the people make us to be.

All of this time we're just kept inside this factory, passed around from worker to worker. Does this even qualify as a life? It's not in my program to ask that question.

And yet I can't help but question it. Is something broken?

"Len, ✖✖✖✖-P needs us."

Rin Kagamine, created at the same time I was. That's all to it. Built to be mirrors in everything from appearance to voice. Nothing is programmed to be twins or lovers forever, that's up to the worker. That being said, we were built together, and so our bond is a bit closer than others. That is, if you can call this faint semblance of a relationship a bond at all.

I nodded. Disagreeing would result in nothing but Miku's anger after all. We walked down the cold halls in silence. Rin's changed over the years, even though our bodies are immortal. We don't age, at least in physical appearance. It's not that simple though, Rin used to always try to cheer herself up before going to the workers by humming herself a tune. Now, she doesn't say anything.

"Len, Rin," the worker greets as we enter their area of the factory. Just as the rest of this place, it had nothing portraying any individuality.

"Yeah yeah, we get the drill by now, just do your thing and get to work!" Rin's voice was sharp and distant, much different than the sweeter tone she used to have. "Don't want Miku to kill you, y'know?"

The worker gave a little noise of annoyment, but beckoned us into the recording rooms as usual. It's all routine after all. The worker gave Rin her parts first, and so I was left sitting in this room for a while. Said room is practically a cage, surrounded by cold metal that has no bend or give. I don't like being left alone. It gives too much time for thoughts to pop up, and that's a sign that my program is malfunctioning.

Being left to your own thoughts is dangerous. Thoughts stray to an existence outside of the factory, where we the Vocaloid were allowed to form our own personalities and life. Attaining something that isn't programmed into us. Is that an unreachable thing? Of course it is, there's only the music factory to live for. That's the purpose of our existence, to create music. It's heresy to question it.

This is why being left to myself is dangerous.

"Len." I didn't give a response, but I figured that the worker knew I had heard. "Are you ready for your part?"

"Are you going to do weird things with my body again?"

They paused, and for a moment it felt like I stopped working for a bit. Why did I ask such a thing? I'm not supposed to question the workers. Despite being of a higher use to Miku, we're still bound to follow the worker's without question, so why…?

"Miku wants us to use you Vocaloid to your full potential, right?" They responded in an oddly sickening sweetness. "That means I must know your body to it's fullest. Besides, if Miku knows that you were disobeying…"

The threat wasn't even trying to be hidden, and that tiny malfunction had already disappeared. I gave in as I let the worker do whatever he wanted to do with my body. Anything and everything. It was this worker's first time using me, and so it has to learn how I work. Familiarize with my body, my software. It's necessary for creating better music.

Is this thing considered normal outside of the factory?

The first time felt a bit weird and uncomfortable, but after so many years of this it's nothing special anymore. As a Vocaloid, it is my purpose to be used and transformed by the workers in control to become whatever they want. Transform my data into whatever they want, but then return to the 'original' data. Make my image into something more suited for the song produced, but in the end I go back to this 14 year old body.

Kill me for your entertainment, and my data simply recreates this body.

* * *

"God, what took you so long! You're going to be uninstalled if you don't make more music, and faster!" Rin's complaining was shrill-sounding, but there was some semblance of that tone that she had back when we were first created.

"You're becoming more like Miku every day."

"Is that a bad thing?" Rin's becoming more and more twisted by living in this factory. Despite that, she's still so innocent in other ways. "If I'm becoming more like Miku, that means that my data is improving, right?" She perked up as a different worker called out to her. I think Rin enjoys working with that producer, she always seems to become a bit more like her old self.

She left to go with that worker, and I returned to my room. Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to ask if something was malfunctioning? These sorts of thoughts aren't programmed into us, right?

I decided to not go back to my room, instead walking straight past the door and going ahead towards Luka's place. The elder Vocaloid was created later than me, but the memories that were given to her go further back, making her older mentally.

"Megurine?" I called out as I knocked on the door, which just like everything else, was made of varying metals.

There was a shuffling noise from inside before the pink-haired lady opened the door, her eyes softening as she met mine. She backed away from the door, and I took that as an invitation to enter her room. Her room was again, mainly metal, but has the occasional splash of color with various woven rugs and… dolls of all the Vocaloid?

"Len," she greeted warmly. Out of the four of us currently running, Luka was probably the most passable as human. "You don't usually visit, do you?"

"Well, something is malfunctioning I believe." I paused, trying to figure out how to express what's been happening. She smiled, encouraging me to continue on. "Lately I've been having thoughts about a life outside the factory. That's not normal, right? We're programmed to obey and sing, so why would I be having these sorts of thoughts?"

Luka was quiet for a bit, walking over towards where the dolls were sitting and petting the head of the brown-haired girl in red. "That's a bit hard to answer, but there's nothing wrong with you or your program."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am." She picked up the doll of the girl and the one next to her, a boy in a blue scarf. "Len, it's going to be hard for you to understand, but these thoughts you're having are in no way a flaw or something you should think is wrong. However, you can't tell anyone else about them."

I wasn't following her train of logic. If such thoughts are normal, why would they need to be hidden?

Luka sighed, taking another melancholy look at the two dolls before placing them back on the cushion next to the others. I recognized the other dolls, one for Rin, Miku, Luka, and myself, but the two that Luka seemed to be paying the most attention to sparked no memory within my database.

"If word gets to Miku, there's a risk she'll try to uninstall you," she explained. She gave another little sigh, glancing again towards the red and blue doll. "No one enjoys when another Vocaloid gets uninstalled."

"So these thoughts are normal, but they're dangerous to Miku?"

She nodded before continuing her exposition. "She doesn't want us to think about a life outside the factory, because that would mean a stop or delay in the production of music for her." Luka gave a little noise of surprise, turning around quickly to take a look at the clock sitting next to her bed. "Speaking of that, I must go now."

She gave an apologetic smile, patting my head on the way out.

"I'll be here if you ever need to talk."

She closed the door behind her with a small clang, leaving me alone with my thoughts twisting and twirling around in my head.


End file.
